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'"And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!"' Sylvia jeered softly. 'All the same I bet you wouldn't bother to reclaim men if you could not find the young, good-looking, interestingly vicious sort.'

'I wouldn't,' Mrs Satterthwaite said. 'If they didn't interest me, why should I?'

Sylvia looked at Father Consett.

'If you're going to trounce me any more,' she said, 'get a move on. It's late, I've been travelling for thirty-six hours.'

'I will,' Father Consett said. 'It's a good maxim that if you swat flies enough some of them stick to the wall. I'm only trying to make a little mark on your common sense. Don't you see what you're going to?'

'What?' Sylvia said indifferently. 'Hell?'

'No,' the Father said, 'I'm talking of this life. Your confessor must talk to you about the next. But I'll not tell you what you're going to. I've changed my mind. I'll tell your mother after you're gone.'

'Tell me,' Sylvia said.

'I'll not,' Father Consett answered. 'Go to the fortunetellers at the Earl's Court exhibition; they'll tell ye all about the fair woman you're to beware of.'